Left Behind
by ThomE.Gemcity-06
Summary: After being assinged to Atlantis, Kevin Lorne finally finds the truth that he had been wanting his entire life, and makes a friend that's there along the way to help him pick up the pieces at the unexpected answer.
1. Graduation

**note: For future refernce; This story will include Michael Westen from "Burn Notice" in later chapters . . . Please enjoy and please do review!**

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><p><strong>Left Behind<br>****Chapter 1: Graduation**

_Stargate Academy._

It was one of the most top secret military Academies in all of America. Only the best of the best of the best come here to Colorado Spring Mountains in America from all over the World. Male and Female, various ages. All recommended by their Superior Officers. And today was graduation.

Kevin Lorne was one such Officer. At the ripe age of twenty-one he was recommended by his Commanding Officer and transferred to Stargate Academy. Five years later and it was his graduation. He was now a freshly promoted Captain, and deserving of it. His hair was a plain dark chestnut brown in a military cut style. He was average, not that noticeable—except for the fact that his eyes were a very clear, stark sky blue.

Here he wasn't really the best of the best of the best, how could he be when everyone else was also the best of the best of the best? But he must have been doing something right if he was here, and graduating. Maybe it was him training at night, when all of the others were asleep, or the studying in the Library, the target practice at lunch . . . whatever it had been, it helped him graduate.

He had joined the Military on his eighteenth birthday, and he deserved the title as Captain after seven years. No one was happy for him; Kevin had no family, had never known who his parent's really were. He had been at an orphanage since he was two years-old, and couldn't remember who he had been with before that age—no matter how much he tried.

When he was old enough to understand—at about the age of five—the Kids Home mother had explained to him that his parents had just dropped him off and abandoned him. When he was old enough to leave and live life on his own, he was given his file, and in that file were two pictures.

The first was one of a baby. He had the same blue eyes as Kevin, it was him of course; it had his name written on the back. The second one was of a family; this was the one that Kevin had found hard to look at first. It was of a family of four—a mother, a father, a daughter and a son—on the back it said: _The Lorne Family_.

The woman had long blond hair that covered her shoulder's, her eyes were hazel brown. She had on a sun dress and a smile on her face; Kevin calculated her to be in her early thirties. The man was probably in his mid thirties in comparison, with black hair and eyes the colour of the sky—they weren't exactly the same as Kevin's, but they were a close match. He was clad in Dress Blues and also had a grin that matched the woman's. The girl looked to be twelve, her eyes green and her shoulder length hair a light sandy colour. She was wearing a pair of overalls and her smile was toothy. Lastly was the boy, he was ten. His hair the same as the man's, but his eyes were exactly the same as Kevin's. He was wearing the man's Dress Blues cap, and was giving the camera a huge, goofy grin—the stretch of his lips caused dimples to appear on his cheeks.

Kevin didn't know why this was in the file, why people would want to hurt him like this. They were happy, so he assumed that they were that way without him—Kevin didn't have a clue as to when this photo was taken—this was the reason as to why he didn't try and search for them. It was also part of the reason why he joined the Military. He kept it with him, even though he couldn't remember who these people were, and even though they had abandoned him. He kept it because it reminded him of—surprisingly—who he was and his purpose.

Even now, every time he looked at the photo, it felt like he was stabbed in the heart with a knife. He had thought about suicide before, but was to chicken to do it himself. His family didn't want him, and the families that came into the Kids Home didn't even seem to give him a second glance—but at the age of seventeen, he found his calling—the Military.

Earlier that year—probably about a quarter through the semester—before graduation, Kevin got called into the Commander's office and was told that he had the Gene.

"The Gene?" Kevin had questioned.

They had just studied the city of Atlantis, but as the Commander had explained it—Kevin was special because he had this Ancient Gene in his blood. Though the way that the Commander had explained it, made it seem like having the Gene was like having the same name. So the thought had been instantly flushed and his heart had sunk, this could have been his reason. But they had just wanted him to know that he would be going to the City of Atlantis in the Pegasus Galaxy instead of Stargate Command, or Area 51. Kevin had thanked the Commander in a professional voice and was then dismissed.

During graduation, Kevin had found out that out of the handful of officers at the Academy, he was the only one out of them; he was the only Gene Carrier and therefore the only one that was going to Atlantis. So he was rare and special after all, unlike the way that the Commander had talked about it. _I guess that's why I'm here_, Kevin thought as he felt as if all eyes were on him—whether they were anger or not, he wasn't sure. Well, he didn't feel awkward _at all_ as he went to his room after the ceremony. He could feel every head turn as he went by, and had a glare burn into his skull—anger and jealousy, he finally decided. And his heart sank a little more.

Once in his room, Kevin shut the door with a click. This was one of the reasons why he was glad that he didn't have a roommate. He navigated his why to his bed easily in the moonlight shinning through the window, and lay on his bed with a soft sigh.

Taking out the photograph, he gave another sigh, though this one out of sadness. Many years ago he had deducted that his parents were already dead, and that if he were to meet anyone, it would be his brother. He didn't know why he decided that, just that he had always wanted a brother and the boy in the picture looked like Kevin more than the others. But he had ever met said brother face to face, he would never say anything. He would deny the fact for all he was worth if ever confronted. They left him, so why should he grovel at their feet?

By now he was tracing the older boys face with a finger. Kevin's sky blue eyes shone with unshed tears of anger, sadness, heartbreak, self-pity, self-hatred and confusion—which was the strongest of them all. Confusion that led to questions. W_hy_? That was the one that was always on his mind. _Why_? All of those emotions bottled up, never to meet the air of this world. All of these emotions fighting for dominance in the confined areas of his mind and heart were making his expression blank and unreadable, his eyes becoming dark and hooded.

A cloud travelled across the moon, blocking out the light in his room. With tired movements he put the photo face down over his heart, and placed a hand over it. Gradually he fell asleep, in his Dress Blues and all. Grudgingly dreaming of the family that had abandoned him.

**note: Hoped you like the start of this Fic. I was going through some of my old binders and I found this first chapter that I had written when I was in like grade ten. At the moment I'm already about halfway through the second chapter and I'll post it as soon as I can. Please review; tell me what you think.**


	2. Getting There

**a/n: sorry it took a while to update when I said that I would soon because this chapter was already half way done; but here it is.**

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><p><strong>Left Behind<br>****Chapter 2: Getting There**

Getting up early, Kevin went on his morning run, had a shower and ate his favorite rubber-like bacon and eggs from the Academy cafeteria. Once he got back to his room, he started to pack what little possessions he had. He was to depart on the _Daedalus_ to go to Atlantis that afternoon.

_'Can you believe it? A real spaceship_!' is what anyone who wasn't Kevin would be like. Instead he was just blank; he had gotten used to the fact his first year at the Academy. That was why he was a good soldier—taking orders and leaving emotions behind was what he was good at—he had his childhood to thank for that. Well, not totally behind, just bottled up—eventually they would explode outward. An excellent soldier, a pawn to the Government and soon to be Wraith killer.

When Kevin finished packing his bag, he left the room that had been his Home for five years. Home—he hated that word. Home insinuated family, and he didn't have that either. Sometimes he wondered if he would really find a Home, or a place where he really belonged.

The hall was empty, but when he got to the waiting room, the place was full and so were the seats. There were two offices, one on either side of the hall. Kevin got looks, but just thanked god that his appointment was now and the office to the left was empty and awaiting his presence. The office that Kevin went into was for all of the officers that were going to be assigned to Atlantis, the other one was for the SGC and Area 51. You go in and they give you the information that tells you where to go—like high school all over again.

Behind the desk there was an officer, and he looked bored out his mind. He was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the corner of the desk. Kevin could see a brown folder in the middle—amid the clutter— and when the officer saw him; he sat up and leaned forward, opening the folder and looking in side. He glanced of up at Kevin before he shut the folder again. The officer opened a side drawer on the desk and took out what looked like a little box that fit into the palm of his hand. He set it in the desk and slid it across to Kevin.

"Take it." he said gruffly.

After a moment of hesitation, Kevin took the box in his hand. On the surface of it was a small red bulb, there was another box in the officer's hand, bigger this time, like a switch box. He pressed a button and the red bulb on the device in Kevin's hand lit up.

"You'll be beamed straight up to the _Daedalus_." he said and flipped the switch.

Kevin opened his mouth, but before he could say anything he was enveloped by blue light. The office blurred and when his vision focused again, he was aboard the _Daedalus._ Kevin looked around himself, finding that he had landed in the middle of a corridor—full of officers slipping past him at a quick pace. He inserted himself against the wall, trying to be out of the way as much as possible in his unknown surroundings.

"Sir?" a voice came from next to him and Kevin was sure that he let out a gasp of surprise.

Kevin turned and found a man that looked to be a few years older than him, giving him a friendly smile.

"Captain Lorne? I'm Captain Marks; I'll give you the tour and then show you to your quarters for the next week or so." Marks shook Kevin's hand and guided him through out the spacecraft _Daedalus._

Kevin paid very close attention; he may have read up on the craft and had seen the schematics, but seeing the real thing was totally different. He kept his expression indifferent, slightly peeved with himself that he felt the urge to touch everything in his path. It was mostly due to the fact that he had been stuck in too few place for most of his life and now he was finally getting away—like a new start of sorts.

Afterwards Marks lead him to his temporary quarters where as and in he would spend the next 240 hours. Ten days of free time, and he was hopeless as to what he was going to do in that time period.

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><p>Kevin was motionless as he sat on his bunk, unable to actually believe it.<p>

The_ Daedalus_ was an hour away from its destination; Atlantis, but at the moment that wasn't what was on the young Captain's mind.

Kevin had found something to do in those ten days, and the first time it had happened, he was his second day into his travels. He had to eat sometime, so after a few trials and errors, he found the ship's mess hall. He took a tray; and placed as simple sandwich and bottle of water on top. He didn't need much; he never seemed to really have an appetite.

The place was crowded much to Kevin's dismay, all the tables had two or more occupants. He searched, willing a table to be free—he spotted one; a free chair. He was halfway to the table, when he found that it wasn't empty, but was in fact owned by a single man.

Kevin froze to the spot, his hands gripping the tray tightly; he wasn't even hungry, really. He could just eat in his quarters any way, if wouldn't be the first time. Kevin Lorne didn't have friends; he knew that it was probably more because of him than the others—but he just wasn't able to trust, or have the energy or even the heart for it. He didn't need people any way, he never did, not since he was born.

As if sensing the fact that Kevin was staring at the back of his head, the man twisted in his seat and stared straight at Kevin. Kevin stared back, the man's gaze seemingly gluing his boots to the floor. The man stared a moment longer before he raised his hand and cocked to fingers at Kevin.

There was a beat before Kevin forced himself to move, his steps even and precise. Eventually, after what seemed like a really long time, Kevin made it to the table. He and the man stared at each other before Kevin spoke, glad that his voice sounded normal.

"Is the seat taken?" Kevin asked.

"Have a seat," the man told him.

Kevin did as he was told, setting his tray down silently on the table and slid into the chair.

Silence.

"What's your name, soldier?" the man asked.

He looked to be in his early thirties, short brown hair with dark grey eyes. On his left cheek he had a downward scar.

Kevin didn't even bother to try and correct him on the 'soldier' part, because at the end of the day that was all he was. "Captain Kevin Lorne," he said.

"Michael Westen,"

They both reached out and shook hands amid the table.

"Civilian?" Kevin asked, curious and hoping that he wasn't overstepping.

"You could say that," Michael said, a secret sort of lift to the corner of his lips.

Kevin didn't question it, though Michael did seem to have that kind of air about him—like maybe he did have some sort of high-grade military training under his belt.

And it could have only gone up-hill from there; over the next eight days they seemed to find themselves at the same table. They would eat and seemed to have unspecified staring contest. After a little while they had started to talk, even smile.

The lift of his lips had been unfamiliar, though the feeling that accompanied it hadn't been unwelcome.

Kevin was shocked, surprised that he was, well . . . surprised. Kevin hadn't had this feeling in a long while, and especially feeling enough of it that it showed on his face and in his body language. Kevin had a made a friend—well, maybe Michael and him weren't quite friends, maybe down the road they could be. So for now, he was going to consider Michael Westen, the mysterious man, an acquaintance. Kevin had never had an acquaintance before either.

Yes, Kevin Lorne was surprised about what was probably one of the most mundane things in the world, but wasn't even shocked that there were Aliens in outer-space.

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><p><strong>note: Yeah, I went there—I brought in Michael Westen from "Burn Notice". Don't question it, it just sorta happened; I thought that Kevin may need a friend—sorry, acquaintance—so he got one. Not what you expected—same here!<strong>

**Please Review.**


	3. Arrival

**Left Behind  
><strong>**Chapter 3: Arrival**

When the _Daedalus_ arrived at Atlantis, the crew wasn't beamed down, but instead the space craft had landed on one of the City's docks. Supplies were unloaded; food, weapons and ammo, extra uniforms, equipment and medical supplies.

Kevin had lost sights with Michael as he exited the deck, but knew that if he wanted, Michael would be the one to find him, not the other way around. He still couldn't grasp what it was about the man, but it had only been nine days since they had met—hopefully, the 'civilian' had only the one way trip. Kevin shook himself, he couldn't believe that he was already getting attached.

He had helped unload the supplies, even though he knew that it wasn't really expected of him. He didn't have to talk to anyone at the moment, but at least it helped him get his bearings in this new environment. He had just picked up his bag and threw the strap over his shoulder when a Sergeant appeared in front of him. This time, Kevin wasn't surprised like he had been before on the _Daedalus;_ he was now sure to expect this.

"Captain," the Sergeant greeted. "I'm Sergeant Bates; I'll be showing you around Atlantis and get you situated before taking you to Colonel Carter."

"It's nice to meat you, Sergeant." Kevin nodded his head, and fallowed when Bates gestured for him to do so.

So Bates gave Kevin a general tour; where the quarters were (and dropping his bag off in his), the infirmary, the mess hall, the armory, the gym, the gate room and lastly, Colonel Carter's office—doing a tour of the whole place would take way more time than what it took to go through those seven locations. Bates left Kevin outside Carter's office and Kevin knocked on the glass window.

Carter was at her desk, her blond head bent over a PADD; she looked up and waved him in.

Kevin opened the door and slipped inside, reaching across the desk to shake Carter's hand as she stood.

"It's nice to meet you, Captain."

"You too, Colonel."

"Please, have a seat." she gestured to one of the chairs adjacent to the front of her desk.

Kevin did, sitting on the edge of the seat, his spine straight and his hands clasped in his lap.

"First off, Welcome to Atlantis." Carter said with a nod. "You were chosen to come to Atlantis because you have the Atlantian Gene." she continued as she glanced down at the PADD, "It's very rare to have it naturally, and is very needed around here. Your combat and artillery skills are excellent, with not even a smudge on your record. I'm going to place you on Atlantis' infiltration team, Captain."

Kevin nodded. "May I ask who it is that I report to?"

Carter nodded. "Michael Westen; he was on the _Daedalus _also."

Kevin blinked in surprise, his heart making a fluttery beat for a moment. He wasn't sure why though; Michael was just an acquaintance after all—but how could he have anticipated this? He did know one thing as a result though; this was a one-way trip for Michael too.

Kevin nodded his head. "I met him on the ship," he told her. "Can I ask what rank he is?"

Kevin couldn't help himself; he would just allow himself this one inquiry and that was it—he was going to eventually find out any ways, so why not at the very start?

"He's a civilian of a sort," Carter said, almost just like how Michael had answered. "But you will answer to him, Captain. Is that understood?"

Kevin nodded his head. "Of course, Colonel."

"Good." Carter nodded, satisfied with the answer as she folded her hands on top of the desk. "Do you have any family here, Captain Lorne?" she asked him suddenly, her expression business with just a spark of curiousness in her blue eyes.

Kevin was silent for a moment, a nervousness coming over him. Why would she ask such a thing? He blinked, forcing the emotion away—but not before he swallowed silently. "No ma'am, no family." he wasn't lying either, he didn't have family—not here and not anywhere.

Carter nodded her head, though a calculating look stayed in her eyes as she watched him.

"Why do you ask?"

"I make it a point to know if any of the people under my command have family members in the City; it's just easier to manage with that kind of knowledge." she told him, leaning back slightly in her chair. "I trust that Sergeant Bates gave you the appropriate tour?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Kevin nodded.

"What do you think of Atlantis?"

"I believe that She is beautiful, ma'am."

Carter nodded in agreement. "She is at that."

They sat in silence for a moment, Kevin not knowing what to do and starting to feel awkward.

"You can rest easy for today," Carter finally told him. "Tomorrow there will be a briefing at 0800 that you will attend."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Dismissed, Captain."

Kevin stood and gave her a salute before he left her office. He paused outside for a second as the door closed behind him, not quite knowing where to go. But he figured anywhere was better than just standing here, so he descended down the steps that let to the gate room floor and turned towards where he was sure that the mess hall was.

"Hey, Lorne." a female voice came from a little ways away.

Kevin heard it as he was about to turn the corner, he paused as he looked behind him, his brows furrowed. He just caught sight to officers rounding the corner; one was a female and the other was a dark haired man.

"What's up, Jen?" the man answered, both disappearing from sight.

Kevin was sure that his heart had stopped for a moment before it started to beat again. He must have heard the wrong; they were far away and their voices were faint. It was only because Colonel Carter had mentioned family, and the picture in his breast pocket seemed to be weighing heavy.

He let out a slow breath, forcing the thoughts that the word family always seemed to dredge up. He had just heard the name wrong was all, he told himself as he turned back around and continued to walk, everything was fine.


	4. Briefing

**Left Behind  
><strong>**Chapter 4: Briefing**

It was the next morning, his second day in the Ancient City, and Kevin had woken up a little early—well, hardly early because he found it slightly hard to fall asleep, that fact having noting to do with the narrow beds.

He showered and put a fresh pair of black fatigues on from his bag; making sure that he had everything on proper. His black tee tucked in, the jacket buttoned up, and his shiny black boots tied tight—his picture tucked in his breast pocket as always. He didn't bother going to the mess, and instead headed for the briefing room.

Kevin had tried to memorize the layout of the City, and the tour that Bates had given him gave him some insight, so it was fairly easy to find the briefing room that Colonel Carter had been talking about. It wasn't quite 0800 yet, so he was early, standing against the wall of the room instead of taking a seat at the table.

Kevin wasn't there for long before someone else came by, early just like him.

"Michael," he said in surprise. "Sir," he quickly corrected himself.

Michael paused, staring at Kevin. "Don't call me 'sir', Kevin; I'm not in the military."

"Of course, Michael." Kevin winced slightly; it didn't bother him that Michael was a civilian, but it was weird to call him by his first name when he was going to be the person that Kevin reported to. "Why did you come early?" Kevin asked.

Michael glanced at him before looking around the briefing room for a moment. "It's always good to get here early and scout-out the place . . . find a good seat." Michael grinned at him.

Kevin didn't comment on that; quite frankly the statement just made Michael seem even more mysterious and whatnot. So then why did his heart do that fluttery-thing again? He mentally shook himself; he knew that it must be because Michael had been the first person that he had even had a real conversation with in years.

Michael took a seat at the one of the bends at the table, a few feet from Kevin; his back was turned to one of the corners of the room, a vantage point to see everything in the room at once.

Now that Kevin had had time to dabble on it; putting some of the pieces together: the way Michael was 'sort of considered a civilian', and the way that he carried himself, his secretiveness, the fact that he was the leader of a infiltration team . . . even the look in his grey eyes; it all pointed to one thing—he had to have been in the **Black Ops** at one point or another.

Not long after, the other officers streamed in; Colonel Carter, Dr. Beckett, Dr. McKay, and Lt. Colonel Sheppard among them. Michael flashed Kevin a smile as they took a seat; whereas Kevin stayed where he was.

Kevin had no idea what this briefing was about, but Colonel Carter had told him to come, and so he had. He knew that he probably could have asked Michael before the others had come, and now he kind of wished that he had. But there was no point in being angry with himself on that fact now; everyone was here and the briefing was about to start so he would just find out as it went along.

But what confused Kevin was that—glancing at his watch—the briefing had yet to start, it was a little past 0800.

Sheppard turned in his chair, staring past Kevin and out the door. "Lorne," he said and Kevin unconsciously stood up straighter. "You're late."

Kevin furrowed his brows slightly—Michael watching him carefully—how could he be late when he was already here?

"Sorry, sir." came the answer, as the same dark-haired man from before answered, rushing past him with an arm full of files. "I had trouble finding the files that were needed." he came around to the other side of the table and set his folders down, and with that brought the beginning of the briefing.

Kevin had a hard time concentrating on what the Major was saying, but not a so hard time staring at him. He had thought before that he had just heard the name wrong, but now not so much. So there was just another office on Atlantis with the same name was all, the eyes didn't matter or mean anything—_just_ the same name and nothing else. Kevin forced him brain to think this, but whatever the hell his heart was doing said otherwise—the weight of the photograph in his breast pocket burning a hole in his shirt.

How was this even possible? The percentage of this type of thing had been so low off the charts!

Almost an hour later, the briefing was over and everyone left, expect Kevin, frozen to the spot and Michael who stayed in his seat.

Though through that hour Kevin's mind may have been in mayhem, but he had caught the gist of it. The point of an infiltration team was basically to go undercover, gain access to a company, gather information and slip away unnoticed; teams can consist of many numbers, but this one was just Michael and Kevin. Apparently something new for Kevin to tryout.

"Is there something you need to tell me, Kevin?" Michael asked.

Kevin's eyes darted to him, just now sort of registering the fact that everyone had left the room and Michael had stayed behind.

". . . No." he said faintly after a moment. "No," he said stronger this time, his face set.

The look that Michael was giving him said that he didn't believe Kevin, but would leave it for now—and Kevin could have hugged him because of it; he had no idea what the hell was going on either.

Michael stood from his seat, and walked over to Kevin, a folder in his hand. "This is the mission report and objective, I want you to read this and know your task by heart by the next briefing." he pressed the folder to Kevin's chest and only took his hand always when Kevin's reached up and held it in place. "Kevin, if you have any question or need to speak with me, come to my quarters."

Kevin stared at him, his nostrils flared slightly as he nodded. "Yes, Michael."

Michael gave him a firm nod and pointed look before he gave Kevin's shoulder a quick squeeze before he left the briefing room also.

Kevin was left standing there, clutching the folder to his chest. His heart racing; as he walked at a quick pace back to his own quarters. He kept his head down, and no one bothered him because he had barely even been there for to day.

When he got back to his own quarters, he set the folder on the table next to his bed, sitting down heavily. He pulled the picture from his breast pocket, clutching it so tightly that it strained not to tear. His eyes focused on the little boy in the picture, focused on his eyes. Everyone's face in the world could look the same or similar, same with the hair and even the body—you can never really compare an adult and a child, because it was all in the eyes.

The eyes that Major Lorne had were the same that Kevin had.

The same.

Kevin couldn't believe that this was happing, that his brother was here; in the Pegasus Galaxy, on the Lost City of the Ancients. It didn't seem fair, the numbers were all off; the same name, the same eyes . . . Kevin was in shock again, but this time it was an unfriendly/unsettling shock.

**note: I hoped you've like it so far far, even though most of you probably didn't think this fic was what it really was. So I hoped that by now we're getting close to the two Lorne's meeting. Stayed tuned because I'm gonna update soon.**

**Thank you to those who have reviewed, and if you havent' please do . . . comment on whatever you want, even if you don't like something. :O (You don't even have to be a registered member of the sight)**


	5. Realization

**Left Behind  
><strong>**Chapter 5: Realization**

It had been a week and Kevin had pretty much done nothing but read the file that Michael had given him; going over it and over it. He needed to keep his mind occupied even if his heart wasn't; when it had to do with him being a soldier it always worked—just like a peach. And even if Major Lorne was his real brother, Kevin had made the decision that even if they did come across each other, he would never confront his brother.

Kevin and Michael had met for lunch as usual though, just like they had one the _Daedalus._ It was all fine, but Kevin was starting to get a little worried about the looks that Michael came giving him; like he knew something that Kevin kind of wished he didn't. Michael was very smart, Kevin knew, he saw things that others didn't and kept his playing cards close at hand, knowing exactly when to reveal them.

"Have you read the file?" Michael asked.

"Yup," Kevin nodded.

"And you understand it?" he asked, "No questions."

Kevin silently shook his head as he took a sip from his juice.

"Don't hold back," Michael told him, "It's important that you voice any concerns, Kevin; one slip-up because you didn't speak-up can jeopardize this whole operation."

Kevin set his glass down, and stared at Michael; his face set. "I have read the file, Michael. I understand how important this is; we need to find out what the Genii are planning. This may be my first time doing something like this, and it's pretty big—I'm sure that I can pull off my cover ID." he promised.

And it would be easy for Kevin to slip into someone that he wasn't, especially when he wasn't really anyone in the first place. It was a sad fact, but a true one; the only real relationship that he had was with Michael, and even then they hadn't really shared anything personal with each other—so in a way this counted as a work-relationship too.

The look that Michael was giving him said that he knew what Kevin was thinking, and didn't like it one bit.

Kevin gave him a reassuring smile. "I can do this, I swear."

"Good," Michael said, making sure that Kevin was listening. "Because Atlantis and our people are counting on us, and I'm counting on you as my partner to have my back."

"And I do, Michael. I can swear it,"

That had been the day before the end of the week, and now it was the day of their operation. Kevin was nervous—it was expected of course—but he hid it very well; he was good at that kind of thing, but he was sure that Michael could see through it.

This was really big, and while they were going over the mission once more, Kevin realized that this was the first thing that anyone had _ever_ relied on him for. That realization though didn't wrack his nerves, it just mad him determined to succeed—and he knew that he wouldn't be able to live it down if he let Michael down—let alone be the cause of this op. to back-fire.

The objective of this mission was to see if the Genii were up to something hinky—several times before they had tried to commandeer Atlantis several times and it was becoming a real problem. Not knowing when and if they were going to try again, and even how they were going to try. People had been hurt, and Atlantis was damaged because of their other failures, and repairing the damage wasn't an easy fix, and the officers irreplaceable.

So they would dial the planet, go through with the cloaked Jumper, while Colonel Carter distracted them about making peace—which was what the people of Atlantis wanted in the first place—but wasn't going to happen in the long run. The Jumper would land and drop off Kevin and Michael, they would infiltrate the Genii base—unnoticed mind you—gather the Intel they needed and be out before anyone knew. Incase caught, they were dressed in the Genii uniform, and had Tokra rings, that if you prick a person with the needle on the end, they think that you're someone else if you tell them so.

If anything went awry, Major Lorne's team would be there for back-up. This fact made Kevin a little on edge, but his personal business had nothing to do with this so he pushed it to the very back of his mind.

* * *

><p>The material against Kevin's skin felt odd and stiff, the uniform awkward and uncomfortable. Michael wore it well, as if he were one of the Genii himself; and this was when Kevin realized that he needed to get into character, to become the person beneath the uniform. They may have been in the Jumper and still on Atlantis, but it was easier to get into character if you are them before you even start to play the game.<p>

They gated to the planet where the Genii had taken new refuge, the Jumper scanning the planet's surface for any life signs. Finding none, and knowing that the Genii always went under ground, Lorne parked the Jumper in some brush. The Genii facility had all but been undetectable, but for the worn down area from where the hidden entrance was.

As it turned out, the Intel that they had had been faulty and old—the place had to be abandoned. There were no Genii, and the equipment that did find, had no information—nothing. Kevin and Michael searched the whole place, keeping in contact with Jumper 1, but there was nothing to report.

Well, that was what Kevin had thought when he and Michael were deep in the bowels of the facility. There was nothing, but that turned out to be wrong too.

Kevin wasn't even sure how it had happened, _what_ had happened. One second they were walking down the hall, ready to leave the bunker and go back to Atlantis, the next there was the echoing gunshot going off in close quarters. And then Kevin was falling to the ground, a warm wetness spreading across his chest and his back. There was an answering shot from Michael's gun, and quick voices in the radio.

Next thing he knew, Michael was carrying him from the bunker, and to the Jumper that at Michael's call, moved closer to the entrance. He had help dragging Kevin in and then they were off towards the gate. Michael putting pressure on the wound, Kevin choking on the blood in the back of his throat and the pain. . . The Genii didn't have the same kind of guns that Earth did, but they packed a pretty good punch. And Kevin was positive that it had hit something really vital—like maybe his heart! And through all of the pain and blood, Kevin had yet to realize that it must have hit his picture, the one that he always tucked in his breast pocket.

Kevin was sure that he must have blacked out because the next time he opened his eyes he was surrounded by medics and Dr. Beckett, being thrown onto a gurney and rushed down the halls. He blinked again and found himself now in an operating room, his clothes being torn off and a mask being placed over his nose and mouth. He welcomed the darkness that dragged him under and away from the pain.

Michael was covered in his blood, more upset than he had been a real long time. He wasn't allowed in the operating room for obvious reason, but he found himself holding Kevin's discarded and bloody jacket in his hands; his face hard. He couldn't believe that he had allowed this to happen, especially to Kevin of whom he not only considered his partner, but also his friend.

Something fell to the floor from the jacket, and Michael bent and picked up the bloody piece of card from the floor. He tucked the jacket under one arm and unfolded the piece of card, which turned out to be a photograph. He tried to wipe away the drying blood on the surface, finding a worn picture of a family underneath. Michael stared at it for a long moment; he had read Kevin's file—of course he had, it was standard—it had said that Kevin didn't have any family, and from the way that the Captain talked Michael knew it to be true.

Michael stared through the smeared blood at the boy in the picture—at the most obvious place to look. The eyes were the same from what he could see, were just like Kevin's. But Michael knew that this wasn't Kevin Lorne, but someone else of which he had seen recently—a man with the same last name; the nose wasn't Kevin's, and neither was the smile, even the tint of the hair wasn't quite the same.

Michael tried to wipe as much of the blood away as he possible before he folded it again and tucked it his own pocket; Kevin had this picture and had kept it for a reason, and Michael was going to find out why—but he knew for a fact that Kevin would be devastated if he found that anyone had saw it, so he was going to keep it hidden—and he _would_ give it back to Kevin when he came out of surgery, because he knew that the kid was a survivor . . . it took one to know one after all.


	6. Confessions

**a/n: this chapter is rated M for course language, reader discretion is advised.**

**Left Behind  
><strong>**Chapter 6: Confessions**

Coming back to consciousness was a struggle for the young Captain, what with the anesthesia and the pain medicine; but it seemed to be wearing off and so the pain made the struggle less exhausting—but tiring nonetheless. It felt as if his eye lids were glued to his cheeks and the back of his throat was caked with something that seemed to have made his lips dry together.

He tried to reach up with his arm to rub his eyes, but instead the limb smacked him in the face; the offending extremity like jell-o. But the sudden shock of it did cause his eyes to open painfully to bright over-head lights, as well as a grunt escaping his throat which caused his lips to peal apart. His eyes watering from the bright lights, Kevin didn't see who, but a straw was placed against his lips, and they wrapped around the tube, sucking with a vengeance. The cool water against his parched throat was like paradise, not to mention the fact that the liquid washed away what Kevin had realized was the blood that was caking his mouth.

It took his a second to realize that the straw was taken away, and he was left slightly out of breath. He tilted his head on the pillow, angling his head so that the light didn't shine in his eyes. He caught sight of Michael sitting back down in the chair by the bedside after setting down the cup on the table side.

Kevin stared at him for a long moment and Michael stared back. He didn't know what to say, felt the urge to push himself up, but knew that it would be futile. Michael was the first one to speak, his grey eyes full of concern.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Kevin tried to shrug his shoulders and regretted it immediately, a grimace crossed his face. "What happened?" he asked instead, his voice rough; he cleared his throat.

"It was a trap," Michael said through clenched teeth, his hands fisted. "They fucking knew we were coming, someone had to have informed them that we were coming."

Kevin furrowed his brows. "I don't understand." he said, his eyes at half mast.

"You need to rest," Michael said suddenly, the anger leaving him for concern again.

This kind of freaked Kevin out, he may not have known Michael for that long, but he knew that this was not the man's usual persona. He was tired though, his eyes drooping against his will. Michael leaned forward in the chair and pulled the blankets up; this too, was something that was never done for Kevin as a child and it gave him a sense of security—another thing that had yet to really feel. Against his will, his eyes slipped closed.

Michael sat back in his chair. "I'll be here when you wake-up." he spoke softly.

The next time that Kevin awoke, it was to a nurse checking the bandage over his heart and the leads to his arms. There was a beep and a fizzle of air, and that was when the pain in his chest started to abide. The nurse left and Kevin tuned his heading, looking to where Michael had been before. He was there still or again just as he had said, and Kevin felt the anxiety leave him. He was just in time to see Michael slip a piece of card in his breast pocket.

Kevin furrowed his brows for a second as Michael looked up at him.

"Feeling any better?" he asked.

"I guess," Kevin answered softly; not able to take his eyes off Michael.

"That's good," Michael agreed.

"What happened?" Kevin asked, a slight shiver in his voice.

Michael took a deep breath through his nose, seemingly to force his anger away. "Someone who had the information on our op. was leaked, we think that one of the people off world who gave us the information, informed the Genii."

Kevin nodded. "And . . .?"

Michael let out a short breath, clenching his jaw for a moment. "And you were shot." he said shortly.

Kevin had figured as much, but it couldn't have been that bad if he were still here. "And what's in your pocket?" he asked, his heart suddenly beating a little faster.

Michael's eyes shot downward for a moment before he looked at Kevin. "It's your photograph," he said. "It fell from your jacket."

"Oh." was all that came from Kevin; yep, his heart was definitely beating faster and more painfully.

Did this mean that Michael knew, did he think Kevin a sick-o because he had the photo of Major Lorne's family? Yes, Major Lorne's and not his; because Kevin didn't have any family. The Major may have been blood related—though Kevin had yet to really confirm the fact—but they weren't family. Sometimes Kevin had thought about Lorne in the context that they were brothers. He wasn't sure why, maybe to see how it sounded. It was a nice word that slid across the surface of his tongue, but the pain that it caused was tremendous.

Kevin's face pinched with pain and he gasped out, the heart monitor beeping erratically. Michael jumped from the chair, gently but firmly holding Kevin arms down, holding him in place so that he didn't tear any of the stitches in his chest.

"Clam down, Kevin." Michael told him. "I don't care about the photo, but you need to calm down."

Kevin eyes were frantic, straining against Michael's strength. He couldn't help it, the panic wouldn't go down.

"Kevin," Michael said slowly but with force, putting his face in Kevin's view.

Kevin had no choice to but to focus on his face, focus on his grey eyes. They were filled with concern, a little fear, but also determination. Michael had been the cause for a lot of firsts for Kevin; and that had made him calm down—Michael was the first one who ever cared.

The beeping slowed to a stop, and Kevin stopped fighting against Michael; panting painfully against the mattress. Michael stayed where he was for a moment, making sure that Kevin really was calmed down before he sat on the edge of his seat.

Kevin looked at Michael, his face pale and his nostrils flaring from the force of his breaths. "What do you know?" he asked, his voice quiet.

Michael stared at him. "Kevin," he started. "We don't have to do this."

But Kevin shook his head against his pillow. "We do—I need to, Michael, I really do."

"Okay," Michael nodded. "If you want to talk, I'll listen."

"Do you have my picture?"

Michael nodded and dug it from his breast pocket, handing it to Kevin. Kevin reached out and took it from Michael's fingers, his own hand trembling slightly. As Kevin unfolded it, he didn't really seem to notice the fact that it was sticky and tinted red with his blood. He stared at it, his hands going rigid.

"I've been in a boy's home my whole life," Kevin said, his voice quiet, his eyes not focused on Michael but the photo instead. "I figured that I must have done something to be put in a place that was for children who weren't loved by their parents—it's actually probably still true. I was never told who my parents were, and I obviously hadn't been adopted. I learned to deal, shoving all of those misgivings down, becoming a lone wolf of sorts. I couldn't really seem to trust anyone enough to make friends and such, because of that." Kevin paused for a second, taking a deep shuttering breath; the stitches pulling as his chest expanded with it. He swallowed. "When I turned eighteen, I was given my files, and that was where I found the picture."

Kevin gave a harsh laugh that startled Michael. "I thought that it had to be a sick joke, that they would leave a happy family picture there in that folder to mock me! I probably should have thrown it out, not even giving it a second glance, but I did. It reminded me of what others had, of what I didn't have, and I some how needed that. I had thought about killing myself, but was to chicken, and even if I did who was gonna care? But the one thing that the picture did for me was find my life purpose . . . Joining the force. It was better not to have family, I didn't have to make friends—didn't even have to really think—just had to take orders, and eventually I'd get killed in the line of duty."

Tears ran down Kevin's pale cheeks—he hadn't cried since he was a kid. Michael didn't move, just watched as the photo fell from Kevin's finger and onto his chest, silent tears wracking throughout his body. Not able to take much more of this, Michael reached forward and grasped Kevin's clenched fist. Kevin turned his head to the side and buried his face in the pillow, his salty tears soaking the material.

After a few more minutes of tears, and just soaking in the comforting vibes that Michael was giving off, the tears stopped and his heart calmed down enough to breathe.

"I'm sorry," Kevin finally spoke up, his voice cracking as he squeezed Michael's hand back.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Kevin." Michael told him firmly.

Kevin swallowed as he nodded. "Still . . . It's kind of embarrassing—I haven't cried since I was a kid, and to do it now, in front of you . . ."

"It's good to cry sometimes," Michael said. "It helps to make the sadness go away."

"Do you think that he's really my brother?" Kevin asked, knowing that Michael knew that it was Major Lorne in the picture too.

"Honestly?" Michael said, not taking his eyes from Kevin, "I think that you should talk to him, nothing bad could come from it and it would clear things up."

But Kevin was shaking his head. "I can't do that; for one he's my superior officer, the second is that how would that even look? And what if we just have the same last name and it's just a coincidence that we have the same eye colour—blue is very common, you know."

Michael just nodded, reaching over and grabbing the cup of water. "Drink some of this." he said, not really giving Kevin a choice as he stuck the tip of the straw against the younger's lips.

Kevin didn't really care either, because he was actually pretty thirsty, and his jaw slightly ached—Kevin hadn't talked as much in his twenty-six years than he had within the last month with Michael.

"Now close your eyes and get some rest." it kind of sounded like an order to Kevin, but again he didn't really mind because he was desperately exhausted; both physically and emotionally. His eyes started to slip closed and his grip on Michael's hand loosened slightly.

Michael gave an internal sigh as he picked up the picture for Kevin's chest and put it back in his pocket; who could have guessed that something as simple as a photograph could cause such trouble?


	7. Results

**Left Behind  
><strong>**Chapter 7: Results**

The next time Kevin awoke, he was feeling a little better—a sudden weight lifted off his shoulders; he had never said what he had said to Michael to anyone, because he had never had anyone before. But once again he spotted Michael in the chair next to his bedside, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin resting against it with his eyes closed.

Kevin knew that it must have been killing Michael to be sitting in that chair, sleeping in that chair; and Kevin felt a little guilty that he was glad that Michael was still there. He was starving, but by the stubble and light bruises under Michael's eyes, he knew that the man had barely slept; probably hardly leaving Kevin's bedside, only when he was asleep.

His stomach rumbled lightly as he scratched at the bandage beneath his gown. The stitches were itchy and they burned, pulling whenever he took a deep breath. His heart hurt, and Kevin knew that it wasn't because of hurt feelings or the fact that his chest had been sliced open and his rib cage torn apart—but had everything to do quite literally with his physical heart.

"Stop picking." Michael told him, causing Kevin's heart to painfully start.

"I can't help it." Kevin told him, ignoring the pain.

"You can help it," Michael said, opening his eyes and looking at Kevin. "And you'll stop."

Kevin gave a slightly exasperated sigh, but his hand dropped from his chest and fell limp at him side. "I'm so hungry," he complained, forcing himself to sit up despite the pain and strain.

Michael sent him a look that clearly said that he disproved, but Kevin couldn't stand it any longer.

"I'll find Dr. Beckett." Michael said, standing up from his chair and walking through the opening in the curtains.

Kevin cursed; did he just piss Michael off? He couldn't believe it, his first friend and now everything was screwed up because of something so trivial. Kevin's heart beat painfully in his chest, it felt kind of sluggish and as if someone was squeezing it—like sometimes there was that second where you're sure that your heart must have stopped for some reason or another. There was a warning beep from the monitor at his side, and Kevin squeezed his eyes shut; demanding that his heart cut it out before Michael and the doctor came back.

He opened his eyes just as Beckett came through, minus Michael.

"How are we feeling today, Captain?" the doc asked as he checked the monitors.

"Where's Michael?" Kevin asked instead, trying to lean around Beckett as he came over and slid Kevin's left arm from the gown; exposing his bandaged chest.

"I sent him to find you something to eat,"

Kevin felt the anxiety leave him; Michael was coming back.

Beckett pealed the bandage away from his chest, and probed the tender skin around the stitched incision. "Any discomfort?"

"It hurts." Kevin told him bluntly.

"That's to be expected," Beckett said, finally pulling back. "It's going to be tender around the stitched area for a while; you'll feel better once the stitches are out."

Kevin shook his head though. "It's not the incision that hurts, Dr. Beckett, it's my _heart_."

Beckett stared at him for a long moment before he turned and peeked his head through the curtains. "Nurse, bring me the ultrasound." moments later a nurse popped in and left a portable ultrasound. "How long have you had this pain?"

"I'm not sure; I was too out of it and tired to really notice it before."

Beckett nodded as he turned on the machine and placed the end of the controller over his heart, moving it as lightly as possible as to not pull the stitches. Kevin could hear his heart beat and it sounded off; the expression on Beckett's face as he looked at the picture wasn't helping either.

Kevin swallowed. "What's wrong with it?"

Beckett took the controller back and placed it the hook as he turned the machine off, and turned to Kevin. "When you were shot, the wound was major; by the time you got here, you barely even had a pulse—at one point your heart even stopped. The bullet damaged one of your heart's valves, tearing it. Atlantis isn't equipped for that type of surgery, but we managed to get it patched up."

"So what does that mean?" Kevin asked, his voice slightly panicked.

Beckett stared at him again for a moment; his eyes gentle. "Because of the damage caused, your heart now pumps irregularly; the intake of oxygenated blood differs from that that is pumped throughout your body. Your heart is damaged; Captain, it's unpredictable and you can drop at a moments notice."

Kevin stared, his face even paler as Beckett put the bandage back over the wound.

"I've informed Colonel Carter of the situation—" Beckett started but Kevin had cut in.

"You haven't told this to anyone else, have you?" Kevin asked.

The doctor shook his head. "That is your decision to make." Beckett said, helping Kevin back into the gown. "Now I want you to eat and get some rest, Captain." he said as he wheeled the cart from through the curtains; his tone of voice saying that there was to be no fooling around on the matter.

What did this mean for him? If his heart was no good, then he was no good. He buried his face in his hands, his eyes squeezed shut as he forced the sudden tears away; he was not going to cry again. He couldn't show weakness, he was already broken on the inside enough. If he cried now, then he knew that it would be too hard to stop.

Kevin took a deep, deep breath, lifting his head just in time because Michael came through the curtains with a tray in his hands. Kevin watched as Michael set the tray on a little table before he swung it around in front of Kevin. He pulled his chair close before he sat.

Kevin stared at the tray; a steaming bowl of broth, a packaged sandwich, an orange juice, two bottles of water and a yogurt. He had been hungry, he was still actually hungry now but he had lost his appetite if that were even possible.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked, noticing Kevin's demeanor.

"Nothing." Kevin shook his head, picking up the soup's spoon.

Michael didn't buy it, and Kevin knew it. Michael took a half of the sandwich and leaned back in his chair, taking a bite.

Kevin couldn't tell Michael now, couldn't really seem to at the moment. Kevin had just gotten here, and had just befriended Michael—Kevin straightened with the realization; Michael wasn't just his acquaintance anymore, but his friend. His first friend in his whole life, and . . . What was going to happen now?

Kevin looked at Michael, taking a breath he spoke, "There's something that I should have said the second that I woke up."

"And what's that?"

"Thank you, and it's not you fault."

Michael opened his mouth but Kevin spoke before he could.

"I know that you think that this is somehow your fault, Michael, but it's not. Neither of us could have predicted something like that ever going down—and quite frankly, I'm glad that it was me and not you."

"That's a stupid thing to say!" Michael told him, his voice hard. "I would have preferred no one getting shot except for that Genii."

"But it did happen, Michael, and it's fine." Kevin told him, his voice low with an edge of emotion.

"It's not fine, Kevin; you could have been killed." Michael said in the same tone of voice as Kevin's.

"I refuse to let you do that, Michael. The other guy is dead and I'm alive and I'm fine."

The last part was a lie of course; he was alive but he wasn't fine, not completely—his heart was damaged and who knew what kind of collateral it would cause. Hopefully, Michael would buy it for now because Kevin knew that he couldn't lie to him forever.

To prevent further conversation, Kevin started in on his soup; the hot liquid turning to lead as it hit the bottom of his stomach—future dread with some guilt mixed in filling his newly damaged heart.


	8. Collateral

**a/n: _BEGGING_: when you get about halfway through this chapter, _PLEASE_ don't hate my guts for what I'm about to do.**

**Left Behind  
><strong>**Chapter 8: Collateral**

Four more days were spent in the infirmary before he was released; a total of a week+ that Kevin had spent in that bed—all of which Michael was there, for which Kevin was thankful that he had stayed even after their little spat over who was to blame. The stitches were still present, and wouldn't be removed for a few more days now.

Kevin had felt the urge to avoid Michael, so that way he could still keep the truth hidden—but to avoid Michael would mean that he would definitely get suspicious. Kevin was on strict orders from Dr. Beckett that he was not to do anything strenuous; which included no going to the gym to workout, not going for jogs—which ultimately meant that at the moment he was off duty. He couldn't go to the shooting range either, and was prohibited to eat anything someone who may suffer from a heart attack wasn't supposed to eat—anything that put stress on his weakened heart.

It was the day of his release that Colonel Carter wanted to see him in the office; which was more than likely a bad thing rather than a good thing.

Since Kevin was off duty, he wore his 'civilian' clothes, hair still damp from his fresh shower—which he did instantly after he got released because he hadn't showered in more than a week and was starting to smell funky.

He smoothed down his damp hair nervously as he went up the steps to Carter's office, dread at what the coming conversation was going to be about.

She waved him in through the clear glass door, and he slipped in, saluting her before sitting in the chair.

"How are you feeling?" Carter asked, sticking to pleasantries—for which Kevin guessed bad news was soon to fallow.

"I'm feeling well, Colonel." Kevin lied. "Thank you for asking."

"I'm glad to hear it," she said, believing it which relieved Kevin greatly because in truth he wasn't good at all.

"What was it that you wanted me to speak about?" Kevin asked politely; his hands were clasped in his lap—out of the Colonel's view—his knuckles white.

"What happened with the Genii Operation was very unfortunate; someone had turned on us and informed the enemy. It was very much unfortunate but quite frankly there is nothing that we can do about it at the moment."

Kevin understood that, it was probably better to stay low about that matter at the moment until it cooled down a bit.

"We probably should have expected something like this; we got the information far too easily. But there is nothing we can do about that now. And that little surprise that they left us . . ."

Kevin grimaced slightly that the reminder.

Carter cleared her throat lightly. "The damage that done to your heart, Captain, was very much unexpected and unfortunate. I can't allow you to go through that gate again, it's too dangerous. You will be off duty and the roster permanently; you will be honorably discharged—with pension, of course, and health benefits— from the Program and sent back to Earth in two months when the _Daedalus_ returns."

There was silence . . . _dead _silence.

Carter didn't speak and Kevin didn't want here too; this—joining up—had been all that Kevin had had. This was what he had to look forward to, what he was good at. He had joined when he turned 18 and now he's 26, in all those years had yet to be injured or shot—and the first time that he is, the shit hits the fan and his heart was so damaged and unrepeatable that it was ending before his career in the Program hadn't even really started.

He could feel the emotion trying to well up inside him, he wanted to yell out that it wasn't fair, that he had done nothing wrong in his entire life to deserve something like this—even wanted to hit something, real hard and not care about the damage that would be done. But instead he _shoved_ it down, packing it deep and clenching his hands even tighter, painfully so.

He swallowed and looked at Carter, his face a blank sheet—now was the best time as any and at this point he would rather not discus what had just happened—he had understood why.

"May I speak freely, ma'am?" Kevin asked.

Carter eyes widened slight in surprise but she nodded. "Of course, Captain."

The title—now unrelated to him—hurt, but he ignored it; committed to what he wanted to say next. Now was as best as he was probably going to get, and what damage was it really going to cost in the long run?

"I was wondering," Kevin started. "About why you asked me when I had first gotten here, that if I had any family. I know that you've read my file and know for a fact that I was raised in a boy's home."

Carter gave a silent sigh. "You're right," she agreed. "I did read your file and I know of your childhood."

"Then why?" Kevin asked. "It's because I remind you of someone, isn't it?"

"Yes,"

"Who?" he asked, almost desperate—okay, so he was completely and desperately-desperate.

"Captain . . ."

"_Please_,"

Kevin thought as if it looked like she wanted to bite her bottom lip. "Major Lorne."

Ha! Kevin knew it; it not only was himself, but Michael and Carter too. "And . . . isn't there some way that you can find out; a test or something?"

"When blood is drawn and tested, it automatically compares." Carter said slowly and Kevin leaned slightly foreword in his seat. "Kevin . . . there weren't any hits. To have similar eyes, yes, and you do remind me of the way that Evan acted when he had first gotten here, but that it's. You look similar, but everyone has the same last names these days."

Kevin stared at her. "But my file…"

"I think we can put that off as a mistake on the adoption agencies part, that type of thing is unfortunate, but I'm afraid that it does happen." she clarified.

"Oh," Kevin slumped back in his chair in something akin to . . . he wasn't actually sure right now; everything he had based his life and career on, had been thrown out the window in a matter of five minutes, his life destroyed.

"I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear," Carter said, her apology sincere.

Though it was kinda deaf to Kevin's ears; it was a nice gesture, but it didn't solve his problem and it didn't mean one bit to him.

"It's fine, Colonel." Kevin said, standing from his seat. "Thank you for being honest." he saluted and slipped out of her office and going down the steps in a slightly shocked daze. It didn't matter that he had left without really being dismissed—it didn't matter anymore because he wasn't a Captain anymore, now was he?

He didn't know what he was going to do; he had never done anything else before, and he didn't know what he was going to do when he got back to Earth. Colonel Carter had said that he was going to get a military pension, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to spend the rest of his life doing nothing. With his heart condition still being new, he wasn't really sure of the limitations and what harm it could really cause.

At the moment he was still healing; it had barely been two weeks since he had been shot, so he wasn't sure quite yet what the effect factor would be. Kevin wasn't quite sure of how serious this really was, and he knew that he may not, not until the effects actually started to happen to him.

Right now, he couldn't get anything straight, everything that had been discussed with Carter and the conversations that he had had with Michael in the infirmary were all swirling around in his mind and in his now damaged heart—it wasn't really the fact that he had already come to terms with everything like one may think, but the fact that he couldn't seem to put everything in a straight line.

Kevin wasn't quite sure what had contributed to the fact; all of his life he had never talked to anyone, nor had he ever had anyone to talk to. When he had met Michael on the _Daedalus_, it had opened things up for him—like being able to express himself/his opinion unlike before, and talk. So that may have been the reason as to why he blinked and suddenly found himself at Michael quarters, waving his hand in front of the sensor next to the door.

For a second he had entertained the idea of running, but that was really stupid because he really needed this—he needed to talk to someone, Michael being the only one, or he was sure that he was going to go into a deep depression or something possibly worse than that if he didn't get whatever this was, out.

So he stayed and the door slid open.

"Kevin?" Michael said surprised. "What are you doing here? Are you alright?"

Kevin didn't answer the last question because he was far from okay, but he talked before he could lose the last of his nerve. "Can I talk to you, Michael? It's really important."

"Uh, sure." Michael nodded. "Come in," he moved to the side and Kevin slipped passed him, the door sliding shut again behind him.

Kevin glanced around Michael's room, not really knowing where to go, whether or not to sit. He hadn't been to anyone else's quarters before, but Michael's was very much like his own; the small bed with the small bathroom, no personal possessions in sight.

"Kevin," Michael said, worried. "Talk to me." he came over to Kevin and placed a hand on either of his shoulders, stopping the younger's pacing.

Kevin did stop, looking up at the taller man. "I—" he let out a breath, his eyes existentially lost. "I should have told this before, but I'm being discharged from the Air Force."

"What?" Michael hands squeezed a little tighter, but it kept Kevin grounded. "Why?" though he already had his suspicions on the matter.

"That damage was too much for my heart, and they can't risk having me off world or even in the Force."

"Just like that?"

Kevin nodded. "Colonel Carter said that it would be an honorable discharge and that I would get health benefits and a government pension." he scoffed, "But that doesn't make anything better, Michael; this career is what I based myself on, based my life on—from beginning to end—this is all I know! There gonna make me stay for a few more months and then send me back to Earth on the _Daedalus._"

Michael stared down at Kevin, his hand clasping neck, giving it a squeeze. "Kevin,"

"I did what you told me and found out whether or not Major Lorne was my brother." Kevin told him, changing to another depressing topic, though he still wasn't quite sure what to feel about the fact that Lorne wasn't his brother. He had grown up with the fact, had believed it. And he had made the decision that if he had ever found Major Lorne, that he would never confront him, never tell him. So didn't this just make things easier?

"And?" Michael asked gently.

"He isn't." Kevin said blandly. "Carter said that the computer automatically compares DNA samples, but there wasn't any hits."

"But, what about your file, and the picture?"

"She said that it was just a mix-up on the Agency's part."

"Oh, Kevin," Michael sighed sadly. "I'm so sorry."

Kevin shook his head. "It's fine." but the expression on his face begged to differ.

Without really thinking about it, but knowing that this was probably what Kevin needed most; Michael pulled Kevin into a hug.

Kevin was stiff as hell at first, never in his life had he ever been embraced or hugged as Michael was doing now, but he slowly started to melt into this; his own arms wrapping around Michael's middle, his hands coming up and grasping the material on his back, his face buried in the crook of his neck. And with that came the tears of despair that he had been trying to hold back; shudders traveled throughout his body. Michael held him quietly, a hand on his back and the other on the back of his neck.

"We'll figure this out," Michael told him quietly, slowly rocking them back and forth.

* * *

><p><strong>note: If you don't hate me for what I did, please review and keep reading!<strong>


	9. Partners

**a/n: Prepare yourselves; this is going to be the last chapter in "Left Behind". I hope that you have enjoyed it so far and have reviewed; hope you like!**

**Left Behind  
><strong>**Chapter 9: Partners**

Kevin had found out what Michael had meant by '_we_' when the _Daedalus_ was only about two weeks away, and he was not happy about that, but at the same time he was glad for the fact—but because he was glad he was kind of guilty.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Kevin demanded quietly; kinda pissed that they were in the mess right now and there was people around.

"You had a lot on your plate." Michael tried to reason.

Kevin shook his head. "Did you ever consider the fact that maybe this would make me happy?" he blurted without meaning to.

Michael looked at him in surprise. "You are?"

"Yes," Kevin stole himself. "I was glad when you stayed after you stayed when the _Daedalus_ left, and now I'm glad that you're leaving too when the _Daedalus_ come back again."

"But what if I wanted to stay?" Michael asked.

Kevin sat back, his fingers clenching his utensil tightly for a moment. "And do you?"

"No." Michael answered honestly. "I was brung in to do this one op. and now that it's been blown, I'm going back to Earth."

"And then what?" Kevin asked, swallowing.

Michael just smiled at him, and to be completely honest, Kevin always found Michael's smiles a little unnerving because he found that they could mean just about anything.

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><p>Kevin couldn't believe that he had forgotten about the photo; but, Michael had been right on the fact that his plate was pretty full. Full enough to forget about the picture that he had based his life upon, his goals upon. He knew that to anyone it might have been stupid and ridicules, but to Kevin it was a belief. He had believed that the people in that picture were his family, the ones that had abandoned him—and the ones that had helped him choose his path. This picture was the one possession that he had kept throughout his life, but it seemed that now it meant nothing. It now only had sentimental value and that was all—but then again maybe it was just a depressing reminder of a lie—a frigin' mix-up. It was just a possible fact that they had the same eyes, and a coincidence that they had the same last name—same goes for the fact that their first names sounded similar also.<p>

_A coincidence_.

From that moment, Kevin despised coincidences.

He had no real use for this picture now, it was just a sad reminded of the havoc that it had caused on him. First, there was the lie, and next was the reminder of what had gotten him discharged from the Air Force—the tint of blood was all he needed. So he shredded it, tore it asunder—and threw it away, burned it to ashes. It didn't really help as much as he had expected it would, but he had the weight of not-knowing off of his mind.

Since it had been a month and a half, the stitches from the wound on his chest had been taken out. And now that it had been sealed, leaving one fresh, 12 inch, pink scar—not to mention the rounded web-like scar from the bullet that was a through and through. That was on the outside, and that didn't really matter to Kevin—after all, it was what was on the inside that counted, right?

It was the damage on the inside that affected him; it was that on the inside that got him discharged from the Air Force. His heart was the most vital thing, and that had seemed to let him down greatly. Before he hadn't really known what the real effect his damaged heart would cause him, but now it was apparent.

Because now that his heart pumped blood throughout his body irregularly, he also seemed to be pale with dark bruises under his eyes. There was a reason why Beckett didn't want to exert himself, Kevin had figured out that when he had become restless and went for a jog. Bad idea on his part, but it was better that he find out now than later. His heart had felt like it was actually going to explode; he had nearly hyperventilated and passed out. Some days he was really tired and could seem to spur himself into moving, other times he felt as he had before he was shot.

It was confusing for Kevin and he was still finding what were his limits—he just hoped that in the long run he didn't end up getting fat or something.

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><p>The <em>Daedalus<em> had finally arrived at Atlantis and there were few officers arriving and a few were boarding along with Michael and Kevin.

Again it would be ten days upon the ship, but Kevin knew it would be much more easier because he knew what to expect and Michael would be there too. It did help, but the fact of what he was going to do with his life when he got back to Earth was still lingering.

"Why are you moping?" Michael asked. "Despite the obvious." he added belatedly at Kevin's look.

"What are you going to do when you get back to Earth?" Kevin asked with an under current.

Michael looked at him for a long moment, his eyes accessing. "I'm going to go back to Miami, that's where I was before they pulled me for this mission."

"Do you have family there?" Kevin asked quietly.

"Yes," Michael answered truthfully. "My mom lives there, and so do a couple of friends."

Kevin nodded, hating the jealousness that welled up inside of him and that guilt that he felt for wanting Michael to drop his family and stay with him.

"Have you figured out what you're going to do yet?" Michael asked him gently, knowing that it was a touchy subject at the moment and maybe even forever.

Kevin shook his head this time. "I've never really lived anywhere before; I was at the boy's home until I was eighteen and then I joined, always having a place to live already provided for me."

Michael nodded at this. "It'll be hard to get used to in the start, but you'll get it." he promised.

A small smile graced Kevin's lips; he was thankful for Michael reassurance, but he wasn't as sure about this as he was.

"You are going to be fine, Kevin."

Kevin didn't say anything, but his eyes were glued to Michael—the other man's grey eyes looking thoughtful as he stared back into Kevin's blue.

"What?" Kevin asked, becoming nervous under Michael's intense gaze.

Michael didn't say anything, but he didn't look away either.

"Michael . . ."

"Come to Miami." he said suddenly.

"What?" Kevin said in surprise, his heart skipping a beat painfully at the suggestion. "I can't do that." he scoffed.

"Why not?" Michael asked him in confusion.

"Well . . . You know." he made a flippant gesture.

"Actually, I don't." Michael admitted.

The expression Kevin was giving him said that it was obvious, despite the fact that Kevin himself couldn't see the reason why he couldn't go to Miami too. It was what he wanted in the first place, wasn't it? To be able to be with Michael, to keep his friend. He didn't know why, but it kind of felt ridicules to him, that in such a sort period of time so many things could have happened—most of them really disastrous and bad, but there had been one that seemed to out shadow them all. It was the one thing that he never really thought would happen to him, that he would never really have someone like Michael in his life.

"Really?" Kevin asked hesitantly, if not completely fearful; this was not something you kid about, especially not in the condition that he was currently in.

"Yes," Michael voice was quiet, though in rang-out loud and clear in Kevin's ear. "Why not? If you have nowhere else to go, and any way, you need somewhere relaxing—and what's more relaxing than Miami? My mom would love you, and I'd love to have you there too."

A smile graces Michael's lips—and this time it wasn't one of his _I-know-something-you-don't _or _I-know-something-that-you-don't-want-me-to-know_ smiles or just a secretive one, this one probably the most general and truthful smiles that Michael had ever given, and Kevin felt his heart swell because it was aimed at him.

Kevin smiled back at him, one of the biggest to ever had crossed his face in his whole life; this was along in the category of what he felt back when he had first realized that he and Michael were friends. Something good had come from this trip after all, something that didn't cause him pain, but instead gave him happiness and hope for what may come in the future. Michael had turned something as devastating and career ending as getting shot in the heart into something good. Because now that he thought about it, if the operation had been a success and they had gotten the information that they needed without a hitch, then Kevin would still be assigned to Atlantis and Michael would be alone on the _Daedalus_ right now. Kevin would have lost a friend—probably never seeing him again—would be stuck alone, and more than likely never would have found out whether or not Major Lorne was his brother or not. But Kevin had, being shot had given him answers and the opportunity that he never would have gotten—a friend that he never would have gotten and been able to keep.

Kevin Lorne was glad that that Stupid Genii had shot him, because his damaged heart had given him the hope that he needed and Michael Westen, the friend that he deserved.

**TE - The End**

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><p><strong>note: okay, so you might be angry right now because I didn't do a brotherly-thing that you might have expected, and had actually thrown Major Lorne out the door with the whole "coincidence and file mix-up"; the truth of the matter was that when I started to write this fic, I was going to make Kevin and Evan meet and confront the fact that the Lorne family had essentially abandoned Kevin—and I know that may have been what most of you were expecting—but the truth of the fact is that I kind of got writer's-block going down that road. Now, while I was writing chapter 2 I was going to do it that way, but things changed when I put Michael Westen in. Now about that, he was actually going to be just a minor character that Kevin got to know and was able to talk about the fact that his family had abandoned him and Michael would have been able to consul him. But, I like "Burn Notice" and am in LOVE with Michael Westen, so I may have made him a major character by accident, but I think that this fic turned out quiet well. I do like Major Lorne, and that was actually how this fic had came to life at first, but I had written the first chapter when I was in like grade ten, and things can change and whatnot when a few years pass.<strong>

**So despite that fact that you may not have expected this type of twist, I hoped you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it and have reviewed lots—because I love and appreciate it when you review and will love you forever.**

**Please review!**

**P.S : I will be doing a sorta _SEQUEL_ for "Left Behind" so stay tuned and whatnot. :D!**

**Also, I know that is marked for who this fic is focused on, but that's only because of what the fic is based on as well as the fact that Kevin has that same last name and stuff. This is for the future, because in the sequel I think that I'm going to do the BN/SGA - EvanLorne + Michael.W crossover again, despite the fact that it will take place on Earth and Lorne will not be mention (I don't think) as well as I don't think that the SGC will be mentioned at all.**


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